Poem 391 – What Will It Take?

Jan 10, 2025Nov 20, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

As Hollywood burns we point elsewhere
pretending there is no connection.
Friends, there is no action hero,
no caped crusader, only us,
and with great power expenditure
there comes great responsibility.

This morning I heard about the LA fires approaching the famous Hollywood sign. Moments later I read an post about American climate change deniers pointing to other causes rather that face the possibility that man made climate change could be behind it. I know I’m to blame too, but sometimes I despair…
(10.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nathan DeFiesta on Unsplash

Poem 387 – Wet Trousers

Jan 6, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The alarm went off this morning.
Outside it was dark, so dark,
I didn’t want to rise,
but had before I knew it.

I left the car at the garage.
Cycling was cold, so cold,
the tide mark rising up
dull chromatography.

The phone rang in the rain.
The call was hard, so hard.
May God’s peace match the puddles
permeating my pockets.

Once home I peeled the layers.
They’re dripping wet, so wet.
The garage rings, it’s ready –
I put them on again…

I had to take our car to the garage first things for it’s annual service. The snow and ice may have gone, but the weather was miserable. I still feel wet. The good news, however, was that there were no issues with the car at all.
(06.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Nicola Anderson on Unsplash

Poem 384 – Two Worlds

Jan 3, 2025Jan 3, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

This lazy January morning,
we rise to the golden glow
of the winter sun, as it settles
on curtained window panes.

Descending, we duck down
beneath the glowing gaze,
and enter a monochrome realm,
a kingdom of black and white.

Beyond the kitchen’s heat,
the world divides between
two lawns of white and green
demarked by shadow fall.

Upon the glass retreat
ancient fingers of intricate
silver, etched in frosted
detail, delicate yet harsh.

It is the time of year when the sun can shine but has no heat. The last few days have been drab, overcast and misty keeping some warmth, but today these cleared…
(03.01.25)

Poem 381 – The Sparrowhawk

Dec 20, 2024Dec 20, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

We suddenly became aware of
his lonesome presence not far away.
Perfectly still, he perched mere metres
from where we sat behind the glass.
He gazed disdainfully at us through
his alien eyes, dismissing us,
before, with a casual flick of his feathers,
launching himself from the plum tree branch.

We had an unexpected visitor in the garden the other day.
(20.12.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo Muséum de Toulouse, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Poem 376 – Darragh Joins Strictly

Dec 7, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

In bed, Storm Darragh wakes me
Blustering down the chimney
Rattling window panes, and
Disturbing creaky doors

I picture leaves outside,
Spinning, like tossed salad,
Awakened with a dousing
Of nocturnally sprinkled rain.

Is that the sound of waltzing
Wheelie bins joining plastic
Bags in promenading
Gracefully around the lawn?

I worry walls might join
The dance, with flirting fence
panels. rockin’ and rollin’
To the rhythm with wild abandon

And as the show crescendos,
Car sirens sound in rapture
And trees applaud, their branches
Bowed in adoration.

It was a noisy night last night! Thankfully, all was ok when the morning came.
(06.12.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Khamkéo on Unsplash

Poem 369 – The Advent Wreath

Nov 30, 2024Nov 30, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The hedge was out of control,
its branches lined their vicious
spikes beyond the fence,
like medieval pikemen
stood ready for the charge.

There was but one reply!
I grabbed my shears and set
about their ranks with wild
abandon, sending limbs
flying in every direction.

Resisting, they made their mark:
my blood was shed, but alas,
for them, victory was mine
as fast they fell, and soon
lay scattered on the ground.

But this was not the end.
In remembrance I gathered the fallen,
twisting them into a wreath
and hanging them on the door;
a holly crown for the Christ.

I spent this morning pruning our hedgerow, including the holly bush. I’ve often pondered making my own wreath, and so today I gave it a go, at least the holly framework. Tomorrow, perhaps, I’ll add a splash of colour to go with it.
(30.11.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Poem 367 – A Forest in Miniature

Nov 28, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Crouch down, zoom in, and you’ll find a quantum forest,
a reaching canopy in miniature splendour that
rises in vast and alien complexity.

This leafy spread isn’t formed of trees but lichen,
the mystical two in one and one in two,
fungus and algae cryptically combined.

Hidden in plain sight, these ecological
marvels stretch out, decorating graves
and bridges; nature the original street artist.

I noticed recently that, while I wasn’t looking, lichen has spread out its swathes across the railway footbridge at the foot of our road. It’s a weird and mysterious organism, a combination of algae and fungus, but what is the nature of their relationship and are they / is it one organism or two?
(28.11.24)

Poem 364 – The Atlantic

Nov 25, 2024Nov 25, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The black rises and falls, like living onyx.
Immense and thick, it breaths and broods, an alien
being in whom we sit so small and vulnerable.
We steer, propelling ourselves forward, but know
our motions are inexorably tied to its.
One idle flick, one twitch, would see us thrown
and sink into its oblivious arms and folds;
so vast this creature knows nor loves us not.

Going out on our small boat to seek dolphin in the Atlantic was a humbling encounter.
(25.11.24)

Poem 355 – The Cusp

Nov 16, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Like learning to ride
With stabilisers removed,
Our world is wobbling,
Caught between losing control
And new equilibrium.

The days are shorter, leaves have fallen, and the temperature is dropping as we transition from autumn to winter. This is not the only change in the air.
(This poem is an attempt at a tanka, a Japanese form, like a haiku, but with lines of 5, 7, 5, 7, 7 syllables.)
(16.11.24)

Poem 353 – The Tree

Nov 14, 2024Nov 14, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

This heart,
With reaching veins
That stretch out heavenward,
And arteries penetrating deep,
Births life.

A short one tonight. I discovered the cinquain poem form this morning, that has a pattern of 1, 2, 3, 4, 1 stresses in each line in turn, and thought I’d have a go. The shape suggested the content.
(14.11.24)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Natural World